


Nakama

by D_Willims



Category: One Piece
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Multi, Nakama, One Shot, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Willims/pseuds/D_Willims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various drabbles/one-shots about the Straw Hat Crew, includes random intercrew pairings.</p><p>Latest: <i>Lost in the Fire.</i>  Robin seeks out a small piece of West Blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stay: Usopp x Nami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Nami, Usopp  
>  **Relationships:** Usopp x Nami  
>  **Rating:** K+  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Women; #036 Kiss  
>  **Summary:** Nami and Usopp can't lose each other.

She'd kissed him the first time. (She'd kissed him _every time_ , when she thought about it. He was still a coward through and through.)

The first time, they'd been laying shoulder-to-shoulder on his hammock, alone in the men's quarters. He'd been holding her hand up off the bed in one of his, examining the fresh white bandages.

"You gonna stay this time?" he'd whispered it as if afraid to break the silence. He'd turned his head slightly to face her.

She'd turned to face him, then, too. His eyes had seemed even browner, then, and his cheeks had been tinged with a blush. There was a sort of tingling pleasure where his calloused fingertips brushed against her hand.

And she kissed him.

It was shy and unsure, a brush of chapped lips against chapped lips. His nose had pressed awkwardly against her cheekbone. She'd shifted slightly to get better access and the hammock had tipped over, spilling them onto the floor.

Laughing, she'd pressed her face against his shoulder; his arms had come cautiously around her waist.

"Yeah," she'd whispered against his shoulder. "I'm going to stay."

Months later, she found him alone in the men's quarters, lying on his bunk. The bandages over his arms and torso were stark against his dark skin.

"Hey," she whispered, sitting on the edge of the bunk. It swayed slightly on the chains suspending it, but proved to be more stable than the hammock. She brushed her hand through his hair, fingers getting caught in the curls, "You gonna stay this time?"

He looked at here, eyes browner than ever. His eyes were watery, too, almost overflowing with tears.

She kissed him then. Soft and careful, less awkward than it had been the first time.

"Yeah," he'd whispered when she broke the kiss. "Yeah. I'm going to stay."


	2. Overprotective: Zoro, Sanji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Zoro, Sanji  
>  **Relationships:** faint Zoro x Sanji  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Contains:** Mentions of Past (Canon) Extreme Violence  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Men; #029 Strength  
>  **Series:** Followed up by [Overwhelmed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/225972/chapters/342342)  
>  **Summary:** Zoro needs to be stronger. For them.

The first mate was supposed to be stronger than any other member of the crew. Second only to the captain. He was supposed to be able to protect his crew at all costs. Stand between the captain and certain death. Supposed to _win_ at all costs.

Kuma had stripped that from Zoro. Zoro hadn't won. Hadn't come close. He'd saved his captain, protected the crew. But it had been a near thing.

He'd nearly died. A failure worse than anything Zoro could imagine.

Dead, Zoro was nothing. Half-dead, he was nothing. He couldn't protect them dead, or even half-dead.

Zoro trained himself to be stronger. Worked through the screaming in his muscles and the blood and sweat that stained his skin. Worked through the hunger clawing at his stomach and the exhaustion that creeped into the edges of his vision.

It had been one week since they left Thriller Bark. Since he'd started working harder. Zoro wasn't strong enough yet. If they met Kuma again now… Zoro would be dead. _His nakama_ would be dead.

There wasn't anything he could do about it.

The others didn't understand. He could see it in their faces. They'd coaxed and threatened, promised and feigned. Anything to get Zoro to stop, to get him to focus on something else. But he couldn't. Wouldn't.

It was late in the night—early in the morning, even—when Sanji slipped into the crow's nest. He held a bowl of soup in one hand. The soup was sat on the table as Sanji crouched in front of Zoro.

"Oi, shitty bastard," Sanji lit a cigarette. "How long are you going to keep this up? You're not pathetic enough to kill yourself."

Zoro growled, and kept going with push-ups. Gritted his teeth against the screaming pain in his arms and legs.

"This isn't making you stronger." Zoro ignored the smoke that tickled his nose as Sanji spoke. "It's making you stupider. Weaker. You're not going to be any good to anyone dead."

Warm tears mingled with the sweat and blood on Zoro's face. He tried to ignored it, even as his arms gave out.

 _You're not going to be any good to anyone dead_. Like he didn't know that. What the hell did the stupid shit-cook think he was doing all this for? Kicks?

He punched the floor once, twice. Frustrated, angry, vexed. There were still tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Zoro pressed his cheek into the floor, turned away from Sanji and tried to fight it.

Sanji didn't acknowledge it as weakness, though. Didn't take the chance to point it out to Zoro. Threw his suit coat over Zoro, instead, and let one long fingered hand trail through short, green hair. "Get some rest now. I'll feed you in the morning." He moved so that Zoro's head was resting on one of his knees. "You need to heal to get stronger."

Zoro still didn't say anything, curling weakly in on himself. He fisted one hand and rubbed at his eyes futilely. The exhaustion that had been creeping up on him for days finally overtook him.


	3. I Said I Love You: Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, Nami, Vivi, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbe  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Contains:** Non-Graphic Character Death  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Men; #095 Ends  
>  **Summary:** Until the very end, Luffy was theirs.  
>  **Word Count:** 1,229

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01-01-2015: Updated to include Jinbe. Will be updated for all future crew members.

_I. Straw Hat_

He wasn't supposed to have made it. Seventeen-year-old nobodies didn't set out in barrels with nothing more than a straw hat and a dream and make it. It defied logic. But he had, and he'd defied every notion of logic along the way. Found a whole crew of nakama who defied all logic and common sense. And it had been effortless, as natural as breathing. As if he'd known no other way to be. All of it had been for his crew.

For his nakama he loved, the world learned, he would do anything. Even die, painfully, slowly.

_II. Pirate Hunter_

He had never actually hunted pirates. Not the way people assumed. For the most part, he couldn't have cared less about bounties unless they paid of his bar tabs. Still, he wasn't the kind of person that people expected to become a pirate. In truth, he hadn't expected it either. If it weren't for the little boy who found him in the marine yard, he wouldn't have been.

It had been the first him he trusted anyone and he kept trusting and trusting, trusting them. Forever, until it was all pulled out from under him.

_III. Sniper King_

He had always dreamed of the seas and pirating and adventure. But, he wasn't cut out to be an actual pirate. If there had ever been a time when he was terrified of everything, he couldn't remember it. They'd taken him anyway, and his slingshot. Taken him because he'd wanted to be brave. And his aim was good and true, at the very least. Deadly even with just a slingshot.

They hadn't ever pushed him to be braver but he would be eventually. When faced with death, he didn't run and hide like he should have, wanted to, years later.

_IV. Black Leg_

He had been a cook. Who happened to flirt too much and chain smoke and have legs powerful enough to kill. Even with them, he'd been primarily a cook. Pirates had to fight though, and he'd always refused to use his hands. To protect them, he'd beaten his legs bloody and broken. So bad that his legs had been black with all the blood. Sometimes, he thought his legs would never work again from the abuse they had to take for his nakama.

It hadn't bothered him, ever, that he could lose his legs. For them, he'd lose his hands.

_V. Cat Burglar_

She was the last person anyone expected to become a pirate. A broken little girl who'd lost everything to them. Then they'd been there. Children on the brink of manhood (or maybe the other way around). All legs and steel and gunpowder and fists, tangled curls and rough cotton and smooth silk and soft skin. Promising her everything and nothing all at once. The four of them had destroyed her childhood monsters, annihilated them until she could do nothing but cry.

And she'd loved them, every minute of every day. Years later, she'd wonder how she could ever let go.

_VI. Princess_

She had always had her future set for her. One day, she'd be their queen. Before, she had been their princess, their savior. Never a pirate. Except, deep in her heart she thought she was. It was ridiculous. They'd only traveled together for a handful of weeks, a little over a month. But when he'd held out his hand for her, she'd wanted so desperately to take it. Her heart ached for weeks with want after they left.

If they ever traveled through again, she thought she wouldn't be able to resist. And when she saw them again, she didn't.

_VII. Cotton-Candy Lover_

He had wanted it so badly. For someone to not to care about his blue nose. Not care that he was somewhere between human and reindeer. At night, he would cry himself to sleep for the want of it. And then they'd crashed into his life (more or less literally). Clinging so desperately to each other despite their oddities. Clung to him despite his. They joked with him and kissed his nose and cuddled him and respected his opinion as a doctor.

And no one treated him differently for the low bounty. It was always low, they never did care.

_VIII. Demon Woman_

She had been eight when it all came crashing down around her ears. The next twenty years were spent traveling from pirate crew to pirate crew, through West Blue and the Grand Line. Always seeking for a home. When she found it, she'd been nearly dead. Survived because he told her she wasn't allowed to die. Screamed it at her over and over. Until she'd reached for him, curled into his arms and theirs. When she believed it herself, wanted it all.

His crew had wanted nothing from her, unlike the others. But she'd given it all to them anyway.

_IX. Cyborg_

He was more machine than man. The consequence of taking a train head on and rebuilding himself out of scrap metal. Most of the legitimate world was afraid of it. And the criminal world was in awe of it. They could have cared less, though. On a crew full of oddities, being half metal was completely normal. All of them were monsters, by their own admission, it would be hypocritical to think him out of the ordinary.

That crew was his third family, and the hardest for him to let go. He'd had to, though, like the two families before.

_X. Dead Bones_

He had been a captain once. Many, many years before he met them, decades even. The position had been his because of the Grand Line's cruelty. And he had lost it because of the Grand Line's cruelty. At the time, he'd watched his nakama die because it was his duty. No matter how much it hurt. Honestly, he'd never thought that he would be part of another crew. But they hadn't cared what he thought or wanted. They had wanted him.

Years later, he learned he'd still outlive them. He'd been there when they died, prayed for his own death.

_XI. Knight of the Sea_

He loved his captain. That had been the only thing in his life that had never been taken away. Even when everything else had crashed and burned around him, he had lived content in that knowledge. It had been the only thing that had not, that could not be changed on the treacherous sea. Even when the sea had taken from him his beloved captain, and thrust a new one on him like waves on a rock.

No matter what they did or said to him now, he loved his captain and his crew. That could never be stolen away.

_XII. Pirate King_

The marines had an agreement with him. His nakama were to live out their lives untouched by the marines and in return he'd offer his own head on a silver platter. He was supposed to order them to stay away from the execution. But they'd shown anyway. Everyone had expected them to. They watched, scattered in the crowd, as their captain slowly raised his fist into the air. So everyone could see his mark tattooed to his wrist.

One by one, his nakama raised their fists, too, even as their captain was run through. And he'd died, slowly and painfully.


	4. Hands: Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Robin, Luffy  
>  **Rating:** K+  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Women; #22 Hands  
>  **Summary:** Robin's powers only fail when it matters.

Zoro. Book. Usopp. Sanji. Franky. Nami. Chopper.

One-by-one they disappeared into thin air.

Robin didn't scream; she didn't cry. She didn't think she could. It was like she was stuck, reaching out for them.

She'd expected her hands to keep stretching out, one after another. Her powers had never failed her before. And she needed them so desperately to work this time. Desperately needed to be able to reach her nakama, to pull them close to her, to safety.

Luffy was screaming, still screaming. For Robin, this time, as Kuma turned on her.

His screams echoed in her head, one name after another. She couldn't hear herself over the noise in her head.

 _I'm sorry_ , she wanted to tell him. _Sorry I couldn't save them. It's my fault_. But she couldn't say it, couldn't get her voice to work.

Calloused fingers brushed against the palm, reaching for her.

This time, Robin screamed, "Luffy!"

And then there was nothing.


	5. Of Fire and Ice: Robin, Nami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Robin, Nami  
>  **Rating:** K+  
>  **Contains:** Mentions of (Canon) Near Death Experiences  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Women; #015 Fear  
>  **Summary:** Nami has a way of making Robin's fears seem ridiculous.

The night air was cool, blowing gently through the open window. Robin had pulled the covers from the nearest empty bunk and tucked herself in the window sill, watching the darkness for unusual shadows.

Sometimes, late at night, she could still feel the ice. Frozen through and through, as if her blood was made up of ice. And she wondered if Luffy felt it, too; if Zoro and Sanji felt it clinging to their limbs.

They'd only run into Aokiji a week or so ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

He was out there, waiting for her. Robin knew that. He'd probably find her again, too—in another twenty years, or maybe just another twenty minutes.

She wondered if he'd bring another Buster Call with him.

Would the Marines sacrifice another island to their bizarre vendetta? Another hundred lives?

Would they sacrifice the only six lives that really mattered?

"If I leave now," she whispered to herself, "they'd be safe."

"No we won't." Nami sounded sleepy and exasperated. It was the tone of voice she used on the boys, only softer and more comforting.

Robin turned to look at the navigator, but Nami wasn't even looking at her.

"You're supposed to stay with us until the captain says otherwise," Nami continued. "And, quite frankly, chasing you has brought us closer than we'd have gone to the Marines otherwise." She paused, frowned at the bunk overhead, and then amended, "Than _I'd_ have gone. I don't know about the idiots."

In all honestly, Robin hadn't even considered that. She'd been so wrapped up in what she'd been so sure was coming that she hadn't even realized she'd been the one to lure them to danger. "I'm…" she started.

But Nami had already started talking again. "Besides, Luffy declared war on the World Government, now. They're not going to just leave us alone because you leave." The navigator turned now to look at Robin. "Now, honestly, quit being silly and go back to bed."


	6. Underneath the Surface: Luffy x Usopp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Usopp, Luffy  
>  **Relationships:** Luffy x Usopp  
>  **Rating:** K+  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Men; #011 Bruises  
>  **Summary:** Water 7's behind them, but Usopp still aches.

Luffy was under the mikan groove, too, propped up on his elbow next to Usopp. Long fingers carefully smoothed over the bandages on Usopp's arms. Oddly serious and quiet for Luffy.

It hurt, like Luffy was trailing more bruises underneath ones from the fight only nights before. Pressure was building somewhere behind Usopp's eyes, and he closed them against the pain.

"I shouldn't have come back," Usopp whispered. Every word felt like a punch to the gut, and Usopp thought he would've been better off lying. Maybe it wouldn't _hurt_ this much.

"You should've come back sooner," Luffy sounded oddly mature and unlike himself. "We need you. I need you."

Usopp bit back a sob. He was supposed to be stronger than this, damnit, braver. Less of a weakling. Luffy's crew didn't _need_ weaklings—it didn't _need_ him.

They were quiet again, for long minutes that felt like eternity. Luffy lay down again, pulling Usopp up close against him. As if he knew what Usopp was thinking.

And Usopp hated it. He hated himself. Hated how weak and pitiful and desperate he was. How much he _needed_ Luffy.

"Don't leave me," Luffy broke the silence. He sounded younger, even younger than normal: like a child afraid of closet monsters. It felt odd against the maturity only moments before.

Tears slipped down Usopp's cheek and he wiped them away angrily. But he kept crying, desperate and pathetic and angry and hurt and scared and so _relieved_.

Carefully, painfully, Usopp curled closer to Luffy, stiff from all the bruises on top of bruises. "I won't," he mumbled shakily. "Captain Usopp-sama doesn't leave his friends."


	7. Overwhelmed: Sanji, Zoro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Sanji, Zoro  
>  **Relationships:** faint Zoro x Sanji  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Men; #030 Weakness  
>  **Series:** Follow up to [Overprotective](http://archiveofourown.org/works/225972/chapters/342337)  
>  **Summary:** Sanji feels like a failure.

Zoro was sleeping on the infirmary bed, piled under a mountain of heavy blankets. He was pale and shaking. And Sanji's suit jacket was still clutched in one fist.

Fever, Chopper's official diagnosis had come down, and pain and exhaustion and sleep deprivation and hunger and thirst and blood loss and overworked muscles… The list had gone on and on and _on_.

Each new item had settled like a stone in Sanji's stomach. A lump had settled in his throat, too; he could barely breathe through it. The cook blamed it on his cracked ribs.

Sanji had failed. Failed Zoro, failed Luffy, failed the whole crew…

It was a cook's job to hold the crew together, Zeff had explained. Good food could keep people healthy and sane through even the darkest days. And good food was only shaped by the loving hands of a good cook.

Back then, with his first good meal in two months under his belt, it had seemed so very true to Sanji. That tiny little hospital kitchen with its humid heat seemed so far away now. And it felt like a lifetime had passed since Sanji had last felt Zeff's heavy hand on his shoulder, using him as a crutch.

Now, though, Sanji wasn't so sure. He didn't think a good meal was going to fix _this_ mess—even if Zoro was eating. It just seemed so massive, like a stone weighing down on his chest.

Slowly, Sanji sunk down on the edge of the bed. Gingerly, he switched out the cloth on Zoro's forehead with a fresh one.

"Shitty marimo," he whispered. The words seemed to echo in the small room. "Stupid, motherfucking _bastard_."

Despite the vitriol, the cook ran long fingers through green hair. A feather light touch, afraid of breaking the swordsman even further.

"You're no good to anyone dead," Sanji continued after a long moment. "Forget about Kuma. Just move on. For the crew's sake—for _your nakama's_ sake."

It was all Sanji could say.


	8. To Fear and To Love: Robin x Franky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Franky, Robin  
>  **Relationships:** Robin x Franky  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Men; #014 Fear  
>  **Summary:** Franky loves Robin just as much as he fears her.

Franky hadn't been afraid of anything since Tom-san had died. Maybe a little later, after Iceburg had turned him away. Because, really, once you'd lost everything there wasn't much else to fear.

And then Nico Robin had sauntered into his life. Heart-stopping, awe-inspiring, soul-shattering Nico Robin.

Because _nothing_ had scared Franky as much or in quite the same way as Nico Robin. And her tragic, beautiful smile. The corners of her dark lips twitched upwards into a faint smile, shy and mysterious.

When she smiled at him, Franky panicked. He was constantly torn between pissing his pants and sweeping her off her feet.

Even worse was her constant need to touch and be touched. She brushed his shoulder when they passed in the hall, his fingers when she passed him dishes, his cheek when she leaned over to see his work…

It was some sort of elegant torture, nearly insufferable. Franky wanted to push her away and pull her closer.

But, Nico Robin was a seductress at heart. Men had died for her gorgeous smile; men had been killed by her fleeting touch. Her bounty poster had only reaffirmed Franky's suspicions.

She certainly didn't need some two-bit thug's declarations of fear and love. Even a super two-bit thug such as himself. And so he kept his mouth shut.

He couldn't really avoid her either, though. It would've drawn her attention to him, probably hurt her somehow. Maybe. Franky couldn't risk it, anyway.

And so he learned to live with her. To handle her small smiles and faint touches. It had worked out well for him.

Except, then, Nico Robin had faded away on Thriller Bark. There one minute, and disintegrating the next.

It was actually a stunning sight, Franky thought. The golden sun had been beautiful against her skin. There had been a faint smile on her lips, before her head had faded away on the wind. Then her hand had followed.

There had been a new and different fear, then. A new longing, too. Franky feared losing her and longed to tell her what he really felt.

He hadn't slept in the three nights since they'd left Thriller Bark behind. Plagued by the memories of Nico Robin just fading away on the breeze, a mess of golden light and pale skin.

She'd caught him on the third night. Settled down next to him in the crow's nest, leaning close. "Shipwright-san," she had whispered, pressing one hand to the nape of his neck.

Then, she'd kissed him. Pressed her soft lips against his and kissed him. Her hand on his neck buried in the hair there. And her other hand reached over to grab his, small fingers wrapped around his massive hand.

And _that_ scared him the most. That she could see right through him. She'd probably been seeing through him the whole time.

In retrospect, as absolutely terrifying as it was, Franky didn't actually mind that fear quite as much. He could probably even start to enjoy it.


	9. Don't Look: Usopp x Nami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Nami, Usopp  
>  **Relationships:** Usopp x Nami  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Contains:** References to Past (Canon) Sexual Assault  
>  **Prompt:** 100 Women; #028 Naked  
>  **Summary:** Usopp protects Nami from the invisible men who aren't there, but she can't let him look at her.

"Don't look," Nami warned. It came out much more confident than she felt.

Usopp very dutifully kept his back to her, standing straight and tall. He'd squared his shoulders, too, to look more intimidating or something. Thick messy curls were tied back with that old, faded bandana. And a slingshot—the old one from Syrup Village—was clenched in one fist.

He was at the ready, on the look-out for something.

For a long moment, Nami stared at his back. Watching the muscles and vertebrae shift slightly under dark skin. She was half tempted to press herself up against his back and tangle her fingers in those dark curls.

Then, slowly, she began to strip out of her clothes. She shut her eyes tight, trying not to think of the last time she'd been totally naked. When the invisible man had grabbed her wrists and licked her navel to nose.

 _Say something_ , Nami urged Usopp silently. _Lie to me. Tell me how Captain Usopp-sama once fought off twenty invisible men and won. With one hand tied behind his back. When he was four._

Unsurprisingly, he hadn't heard her, didn't start talking.

Slowly, she stepped up close to him and took his hand in hers. "Sit with me," she started tugging him towards the bath. "Don't look." She guided him to sit on the edge of the tub before splashing into the water.

The water was nearly scalding; Nami's skin turned pink right away. She took a deep breath and then ducked down under the hot water. Hoping she could wash away the feeling of that tongue.

Burn it away, really. Get rid of the gross feeling of his saliva on her bare skin.

She scrubbed at her skin with a washcloth and soap, violently. As hard as she could manage, to try and cleanse herself of that feeling. Until she couldn't hold her breath any longer.

Usopp was still there when Nami broke through to the surface again. His back to her, strong and sturdy. He was still watching the door dutifully. Waiting for an invisible man that wasn't there, that wasn't coming. And yet, he still waited, slingshot clutched in his hand.

Slowly, carefully, she moved towards him again. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder. Part of her felt slightly guilty for soaking him.

She whispered into his skin, "Don't look."


	10. Taking Care: Vivi, Zoro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own the _One Piece_ universe.
> 
> **Characters:** Vivi, Zoro  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Contains:** Blood, Sketchy Medical Care  
>  **Summary:** Zoro takes care of the crew. Vivi takes care of Zoro.  
>  **Word Count:** 1,496  
>  Prompt: #026 "Blood" for 100 Women

The ship was quiet except for the boys' soft snores and the dull thud of Zoro's boots on the deck. A chill had settled into the air and Vivi tucked the blankets tighter around Nami before she stood. Quietly, she picked her way across the room, dodging the tangle of too-long limbs. Once there, she pressed one hand against Usopp's mouth and gave his shoulder a sharp shake.

As predicted, Usopp woke with a muffled yelp. But he calmed quickly when he saw her and Vivi pressed a finger to her own lips to shush him.

"I need you to watch Nami," Vivi said softly. She nudged him the direction of the bed. Only after he settled next to Nami, taking Vivi's place as the silent guard next to the pillow, did she let herself relax a little.

Mission accomplished, Vivi made her way topside. Usopp's quizzical gaze followed her up the ladder.

Vivi found Zoro pacing along the railing. It was a clear, cloudless night and the stars were bright. The waters were dark and calm, rocking the boat gently. There wasn't another ship to be seen in any direction. Only the icy breeze disturbed the night.

But Zoro's back was tense, and one hand had drifted to the white hilt at his side. He was ready, aware. If there was a threat, Vivi had no doubt that he would do his best to protect him.

It wouldn't be enough. As she drew closer, she noticed that his skin had taken on a greyish tinge and a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. Just as she had feared. He wasn't taking care of himself.

"Come with me." Vivi hadn't meant to make it sound like a command. But, still, every ounce of royal diction and confidence had oozed into the words. If he were a normal man, Zoro wouldn't have put up much of a fight. He would've done as she said.

Zoro was not a normal man.

"Is Nami okay?" Zoro said in return. His voice was a mix of rough indifference, short dismissal, and quiet worry.

"She's fine." Vivi refused to let the _for now_ pass her lips. "Usopp's taking care of her."

He breathed a soft sigh of relief, though his broad shoulders remained as tense as ever, and turned away from her. Back to the sea. To patrol for a threat that wasn't there. Something he could fight.

"And I'm taking care of you," Vivi finished after a short moment. The long chain of the peacock slasher fell from her hand and hit the deck with a soft thump of metal against wood. Zoro turned back to her, then. "One way, or another."

There was no way that Vivi could ever win in a fight against Zoro, even with him as weak as he was. She was betting on his loyalty.

After a moment, his hand eased on the katana. She couldn't tell if he was agreeing to go with her, or if he simply couldn't fight any more. He had started to sway in place.

Gently, she took his arm and slung it over her thin shoulders. Zoro gave in, then, and leaned against her, let Vivi lead him up to the galley.

It took shockingly little effort for her to lay him down on the table and that worried her more than anything. There was no time to worry, though, and Vivi set all her nervous energy to work for her. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turned the stove on. Then she filled a pot that wouldn't be missed with water and set it on the burner. While it heated, she pulled out several old towels, two rolls of gauze, and a mending kit. Those, she put on the table next to Zoro.

"I'm sorry," she said as she propped his feet on a towel. "We'll have to make do with the mending kit."

"S'ok," Zoro grunted back.

Vivi smiled softly at him and took one boot in her hands. As gently as she could, she peeled the wet leather from his skin with a sick, squelching sound. It had filled with a mix of blood: warm and fresh, tacky and congealing, rusty and dried. She suppressed the urge to gag and pulled off the second boot, quicker this time. Then she knotted towels around the ankles to try and stem the blood flow. The boots went into the pile of things that were going overboard when she was done.

Zoro had started to shake and Vivi draped her heavy jacket over him. "Stay with me," she said and, on impulse, she kissed his forehead.

She turned back to the task at hand. The water was hot now, but not so hot as to burn him. A dim part of her memory reminded her that she needed to sterilize the needle somehow and she passed it through the burner's flame before she turned it off.

Back at Zoro's side, she soaked yet another towel with the water. Then she put the lid on to keep the heat in and the chill out. With as much care and speed as she could muster, Vivi removed the towel from one ankle and started to clean it as best she could. As she did, she examined the wounds to the best of her limited ability. Like he'd said, he hadn't cut nearly all the way through. The bone and most of the muscle was still intact. But he definitely needed stiches and bandages while his injuries healed.

The next part would be the hardest. Vivi swallowed as she threaded the needle. It was simple sewing thread and she wasn't sure if it would hold. But it was everything she had. At the next port, she would make sure Zoro saw a doctor as well.

"I'm so sorry," she said again. Then, without an answer, she pinched the edges of the wound and shoved the needle in. It was just like sewing cloth, she told herself.

He made some sort of strangled, pained noise. But he did not flinch in her hands, staying perfectly, painfully still.

Vivi worked as quick as she could, pausing only to clean the wound again when fresh blood welled and to wipe her slick hands. Part of her feared she would lose the needle in the blood. She remained as firm and strong as he in her resolve.

It took her no time at all to wrap the gauze around her handiwork. The injury disappeared behind a strip of clean bandage.

She took a deep breath and looked up at Zoro. His dark green eyes were distant, monitoring what he could see of the ocean outside the window. The katana had found its way back into his tense grip. And she knew as surely as she knew her name was Nefertari Vivi that, as soon as she was done, Zoro would be back on patrol.

Part of her wanted to delay the inevitable, to keep him here, resting. But she knew that there was nothing she could do. There would be a fight this time. And so Vivi forced herself to move onto the other ankle, repeating the process.

Her nerves must have steadied somewhat. She still felt like she was going to be sick. But the stitching was easier and quicker this time. As if her muscles had settled into a more familiar process.

Zoro bolted upright nearly the instant she'd finished, her jacket falling into his lap. He slid around so that his feet rested lightly on the bench, as if he was testing if they could take his weight. There was still a greyish tint to his skin, but she knew that wasn't going to stop him.

After a moment, he stood. Vivi bounced on the balls of her feet, stopping herself from racing forward to catch him. Zoro swayed but stayed upright under his own power, and he made his way back to the deck without a second thought.

Vivi was less certain about her ability to make it back. Her knees felt like jelly as she cleaned up the evidence of the night's work. The towels, the boots, bits and pieces of bloodied thread and gauze, and even her stained shirt were thrown into the pot. She put her jacket back on, zipping it all the way up to hide her bare skin.

Dumping the bloodied cloth and water into the ocean was the surest she'd been all night. This was something that she had been prepared for. Though she was still sure that her people would be shocked to see their princess at work with such a grisly task.

On her way back, she passed Zoro. He had retrieved his second pair of boots from somewhere.

"You do good work," he'd said.

She nodded slightly. "You, too," she murmured.

They were passed each other when she heard him again, even quieter. "Take care of her, too, okay?"


	11. Lost in the Fire: Robin, Brook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Robin, Brook  
>  **Rating:** K+  
>  **Contains:** Mentions of (Canon) Near Death Experiences and Mass Destruction  
>  **Summary:** Robin seeks out a small piece of West Blue.  
>  Prompt: 100 Women; #090 "Comfort"  
>  **Word Count:** 230

"Will you sing to me?" She felt childish and silly just for asking. There was a part of her that wanted to turn away right now. When they woke up in the morning, they could forget it had ever happened. Robin had become an expert in lying to herself.

A sad smile crossed Brook's face. Because he knew what it meant that she even asked. He slid over and patted the bench next to him. Robin didn't hesitate in taking the offered seat, curling her feet up under her. Brook slid one hand up into her hair, pulling her head down to his shoulder. It was a boney and not particularly comfortable resting place. But it was home.

Slowly, he started to hum one of the old lullabies. _I left my heart with the tree that rises o'er the western sea._

Pressure built behind Robin's eyes. When she squeezed them shut, all she could see was the world burning. Islands reduced to ash before her. Ohara. Ennies Lobby. Punk Hazard. But it didn't burn her. The ice still ran in her veins. Frost crept across her skin, from the inside out. Robin shuddered. Brook's thin arms curled tighter around her, his voice chasing out the cold, the fire.

_And if you remember me, carve our names upon the tree that rises o'er the western sea. And we'll be forever free._


End file.
